


Reconstruction

by isoscelesH



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Takes place after entire Infinity War Storyline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-04
Packaged: 2019-05-15 09:34:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14787974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isoscelesH/pseuds/isoscelesH
Summary: The Infinity War has ended, but no soldier leaves unfazed. How does one find their sense of self in a world where everyone has lost too much? With a little help from one's friends, of course. The Avengers will reunite, not to save the world, but to try and save each other.(Written for a friend. A planned mix of ships and genres mainly consisting of Bruce Banner focused Hurt/Comfort and Smut.)





	1. On The Battlefield (Bruce/Thor)

**Author's Note:**

> Presented on a rough day in the spirit of fuck everything. Hope you enjoy :)

The Infinity War was no more. In the battle between Earth's mightiest heroes and the mad Titan Thanos, everything was at stake. Everything was lost, but from the very clutches of eternal defeat, life prevailed over death.

However, one who is touched by death is rarely ever the same. Death was the ultimate destruction and Bruce Banner, a man for whom destruction was a common environment, could see that the galactic caress of death would leave a mark on them all. For Bruce, there was no relief in the hours after the final battle. No important tasks to undertake, nothing for him to do in those quiet moments. There was only the intimate knowledge of death, that knowledge was a weight that threatened to crush him. 

The Odinson sat atop a hill, a warrior king without a throne, and beckoned his friend to come join him.

"Well, here we are, two champions victorious once again, the people protected, or avenged in my case." 

Bruce had never heard or seen Thor so weary, so reliant on his weapon out of battle, but here on the field of blood, the handle of Thor's axe was all that held the Asgardian upright.

"Thor," Bruce started, his voice also a ragged ghost of his typical self. "The things we just saw, everything we just did, I don't know how we can come back from this." Banner's eyes were strained, begging for rest, but open they stayed because the sight of his friend was as close a comfort as he could expect.

"We won." said Thor, trying in his own way to quell the pain, the fatigue of a battle too large to have anything but losers of different scales. "And yes, we all have to live with the weight fo what could have been, but we shall do that living together."

Carefully placing his axe on the ground, Thor reached out to grasp Bruce's shoulder, his arm consciously light and tender as it wraps around his battle companion's back. They had bonded in the deep foreign corners of the galaxy together, fighting for and against each other, confiding in each other, learning to establish the connection that they had taken for granted for years. Theirs was now a connection, a trust, that was forged in the heat of Asgard's fall and tested in the saving of the entire galaxy. But here for the first time, Thor stopped and really looked at Bruce Banner, taking in the man with admiration.

All knew Thor as fiercely loyal and loving of his companions, but few people received a chance to witness the gentleness of the god of thunder, for it was a special gift, learned over many years of struggle and shared with the most select few. Here and now, Bruce could only close his eyes and breathe as his friend brushed his thumb tenderly against his shoulder. Banner had been stranger in his body for years now, and Thor's touch was a comfort he had rarely known in the long years before that as well. He felt his head slip to the side, coming to rest against Thor's shoulder. He blushed and shifted, ready to make a tired apology for the sudden increase of intimate contact, but the warm hand gracefully running up his neck and stopping to caress the curls of his hair kept him still.

"I would have you stay, for you are most welcome and deserving of comfort."

Bruce turned to wrap his arms around Thor, unable to resist the offer. The god was surprised, not by his friend's embrace, but by how tightly Bruce was gripping him, his body curled slightly and shaking as though the act of existing was a literal weight on his shoulders. His face pressed into Thor's collarbone, but Thor shifted and cupped his hands around the smaller man's cheeks, forcing him to look up. Bruce's eyes were red, his face more worn from grief than any engagement as the Hulk had left him, and his soft voice was barely a whisper.

"I don't know what to do." said Bruce. "I don't know what to do." He said it again and again, his voice breaking up as he fought to contain his sobs. "Please, I.. I don't know" His hands reached up to grip Thor's wrists, fighting to maintain contact with his anchor, fighting to keep from drifting further into despair. He hadn't shed a tear in over a decade, too consumed with controlling his stress, his anxiety, his rage, to ever begin processing it all. That same rage filled him now, ready to manifest in the most destructive ways. He held onto Thor for dear life. afraid that if he let go, he might end up gone for good.

Thor too was a stranger to tears, his stories filled with his own rage, the rage of youthful arrogance and self-righteousness. The sky darkened, gray clouds pulling in over the setting sun. The Asgardian's godly rage often shifted the weather, settling storms over Midgard, but on this day sorrow and shared pain brought to them a single bolt of lightning. There was no thunder to follow, simply a sky weeping openly for a god and his dear friend. 

Thor leaned forward, resting his forehead against Bruce's and they sat, letting the downpour cleanse them for a moment. When Thor spoke, his voice was gentle, but it carried the power of truth. The power a man who would do anything for the person he was speaking to. "Trust me, Bruce. Neither of us shall deal with this lost and alone. Trust me and we will move forward together. There is nothing I will see you suffer through in solitude from this day forth." Thor held Bruce steadily, his solidity both expressed physically and verbally. 

"Your team loves you." He hesitated for the briefest of moments. "I love you, Bruce." 

Bruce was awestruck, his face caught in a breathless moment of confusion and wonder. He paused and looked at Thor, processing the moment.

"Really?"

"Yes? Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because we're sitting out in a sudden rainstorm and I assumed you brought it down on us cause you were getting annoyed with me?"

"It's not an annoyed rainstorm! It's a rainstorm of grief and pain and other emotions." 

Bruce tilted his head, looking up away from Thor and at the sky before bursting into a fit of laughter. 

"You made a rainstorm to symbolize your sad feeling? Did you grow up on bad music videos too?"

"I thought we were having a moment! Why is my way of expressing myself any worse than yours?" 

Bruce stood up, offering Thor his hand. "My way doesn't involve my catching a cold If you must express that much emotion, let's go sit under a tree or something."

Thor's troubled heart lightened at the sight of Bruce's gentle smile. Taking his hand, Thor raises up, prepared to move to dryer ground in acknowledgment of Bruce's point. Bruce, however simply stands there, Thor's hand held in his own.

"Well? Did you have a tree in mind, or shall I take to the skies and find one?"

The press of Bruce's lips against Thor's own was an unexpected response, but not an unwelcome one. Gentle but insistent, it was the most confident Bruce had been about a decision in years. He took his time kissing Thor, again and again, pressing soft smiling kisses against the god's mouth and cheeks. Thor was content to receive the affections, sorely missing them when a hand reached up to cup his face as Bruce pulled away. 

"I love you too. Thank you."

Bruce's grin was tired but at peace. He walked down the hill, his hand still in Thor's, as they made their way from the clearing. Thor sat against the base of a tree, taking Bruce down with him ungracefully and laughing, a sound that was music to Thor's ears. He crawled up close, pressing his lips to the other man's one more time before laying down on his side, resting his head on Thor's thigh.

They stayed like that into the night, listening to the softening rain. Thor assumed his companion was asleep by the time one day passed into another, but he couldn't resist running his hands through his hair. His mind passed from thought to thought until soft words brought him back to the moment.

"We need to find the others." said Bruce. "We have each other but we need them too. They don't deserve to be alone either."

Thor sighed. "You are of course right. I've no idea where to look, and yet look we must, until the Avengers are united again."


	2. Nourishment (Bruce/Thor II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banner is on edge. Thor takes it upon himself to slow things down and give Bruce something else to focus on. Bruce didn't realize how desperately he needed this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God help me it's my first explicit writing in close to a decade. It can only get better, right? Right???

Planning was second nature to Bruce. You don’t become one of the top minds in multiple scientific fields by accident, nor do you survive life with people like the Hulk by being unaware or unfocused. Bruce Banner was a life long master of planning, backup planing, and dusting himself off when the plan crashed head first into reality. He might as well have had a PhD in developing plans, but for the first time in his life, he longed to act first and think later. He needed to move, to do what needed to be done, details be damned. Pacing around the minuscule hotel room they had rented out, Banner continued the ever frustrating discussion he and Thor had been having for days.

“Thor, we have no idea where the team is!” 

“I know. We’ve been over this.” The imposing god sat on a worn couch, his size making the sagging furniture look almost fit for a child.

“And the longer we wait, the harder it’ll be to find them all out there!”

Thor tilted his head, having no problem conceding the point.

“So please,” said Bruce, his voice slipping into desperation as his patience began to thin, “Tell me why the hell we’re sitting in a hotel in Queens for the 3rd day in a row?” Banner’s eyes betrayed the manic frustration he was experiencing. The need to move before he burst though the walls, with out without the aid of the Hulk. Three long days were not enough to make Banner seem well rested, but they were enough to make him feel an endless need to keep moving until things were different, until he could know that the world’s peace extended to those he cared for the most. Thor watched silently for a moment before making a gently spoken request. “Come, sit with me.”

In his youth the king of Asgard thought power was a tool, the thing you used when you needed to force someone into submission. Countless stories were told of the Mighty Thor, god of Thunder, breaking the bodies and spirits of Asgard’s foes. That it took losing nearly everything, time after time, to bring him to this moment meant that the Odinson would not soon forget how wrong he had been. He couldn’t physically dominate the enemies of Asgard, no swing of a weapon would repair his family, and watching his trusted companion, the man who had supported him on Earth and in the farthest Heavens, fray and crumble while trying to put the world back together was unacceptable. It was time to once again show that he was Worthy, not with his might, but with his compassion.

Bruce took in Thor’s request, the god’s expression not uncaring, and forced himself to stop and recenter his mind. Ten long, mentally exhausting breaths later, and his mind, while not clear, was open to Thor’s slower pace. He made his way to the couch, sitting at the end, a hand rubbing at his temple. 

“What are we doing here?” he said, his voice soft, gentle, desperate.

“Right now? You’re going to stop thinking about everything out there. You’re going to eat something. Then we’ll talk.” Thor stood, his eyes reluctant to stray away from Bruce’s. “I would have you rest well tonight. These days have been far too short, but I promise you we shall depart and face the challenges that await us soon.”

Thor left the room, turning to enter the tiny kitchen while Bruce collected his thoughts. Speaking to Thor but really to himself, Bruce let his thoughts flow freely.

“I just, I don’t want them dealing with this alone.” His voice was quiet, barely audible in the kitchen, but he needed to continue. “I won’t let them suffer the way I would had I not been with you.” 

Thor returned to the room, a smile on his face. “You are wise beyond measure, dear Bruce. However, you mind and your body, as unique and splendid as they are, still require nourishment.”

He placed a bowl in Bruce’s lap, the vessel holding a large bright peach. Bruce looked up at Thor with, content to simply admire the Asgardian’s patience and warmth. “Thank you, Thor.” He couldn’t help but close his eyes when Thor threaded his hand though his dark loose curls in response. He knew he should eat, but all he wanted to do was nuzzle up into the heavy, warm touch of his companion. He let his body slump forward, his forehead coming to rest against Thor’s stomach and the cool, soft cotton of his shirt. So few people touched Bruce at all, let alone with the care and tenderness of Thor. The god ran both hands though Bruce’s hair, massaging at his scalp and rubbing the back of his head and neck, cradling the battle worn scholar against his own body, aching to ease his stress, his pain, as much as possible. Gently, distancing himself from Bruce, he reached down to pick up the peach. The fruit say softly in his grasp, held up to Bruce’s mouth. 

“Eat.” said Thor, and Bruce, tired of planning, of action, of the constant flow from one problem to the next, felt compelled to forget everything and simply obey. 

He took a hold of Thor’s hand, conscious of the gaze watching his movements closely. Leaning forward towards the warmly colored fruit, he took his first bite, and juices flooded his mouth. The pressure in his mind was overcome by the feeling that this task was all he needed to think about. With a weight momentarily off of his shoulders, Banner eagerly dove in for his second bite, attempting to devour his prize like a man possessed. He could help but groan in disappointment when Thor pulled his hand back. 

“Slowly, Bruce. I would have you savor this meal. Can you do that for me?”

A shiver ran down Bruce’s arms, his mind transfixed. There might have been so much to say, so much to be done, but how could any of it matter to him when the low, thunderous voice of a god was shaking him to the core with a question like that? He looked up at Thor and nodded. His tongue reached out as Thor returned the peach to his mouth. Eyes closed, he took his time, licking up juices and savoring the texture of the fruit’s delicate meat against his tongue before sinking in for another bite. His task was clear, and he truly appreciated the gifts Thor was giving him. The feeling of clarity in a time where nothing seemed certain. There was no need to plan, no need to act, no need to assert control or fall to the consequences of losing it. Bruce had spent so in fear of trusting himself, he had forgotten how extremely gratifying it was to trust someone else.

Nourishment and flavor were excellent rewards for being made to eat at the behest of the god of Thunder, but Bruce hungered for something far greater. Small bite after small bite worked the peach down to just it’s pit, but Bruce’s tongue continued, gently lapping at Thor’s fingers. The Asgardian let out a small chuckle, setting the remains of his companion’s meal aside.

Bruce maintained control as best as he could, trying to savor the moment, but the desire to feverishly lick at Thor’s thick, sticky hand was overwhelming. He set his mind on the details of his task, however, focusing on running his tongue along the length of each finger, gently sliding the tip around Thor’s already wet palm.

Thor’s soft groan brought out a genuine smile in Bruce. The steady grip on his thick dark curls held his attention, but his eyes shot open when Thor opened him further, sending two fingers into his mouth. He was able to glance up only momentarily before his focus was gripped by the feel of the calloused fingers sliding in and out of him. By the time Thor had toyed with Bruce’s mouth to his satisfaction, the gentle man was a mess, gasping for air with ragged breaths. He felt like floating up into the air, like this moment could be a dream if not for the hand in his hair grounding him to the reality of their actions. 

“Have you had your fill, Bruce?” Thor’s voice was calm, casual, as though they were simply discussing lunch, but when Bruce looked up, he saw the desperation in his eyes. “Or would you have me continue to provide?” Thor’s thumb stroked at his lips, a gentle reprieve, the calm before the storm. Bruce took a moment to catch his breath, but the look the two men shared made it clear that neither was ready to end the encounter just yet. 

“I...I need to take all that you have to give.” Bruce’s hoarse voice poured out of him, a sound of open desire, for Thor, and for all the focus and direction he represented. His hands pawed gently at Thor’s waist, fingers playing at the waistband of his trousers. The god pulled to the side, his grip in Bruce’s hair leading him down, forcing him to lay back against the arm of the couch. His shirt was quickly tossed aside, and there was for Bruce nothing to say, nothing for him to do, except watch as Thor palmed at the thickness below his waist. He closed his eyes, his nerves rattling his body but not his mind. He was thinking of how completely he trusted his companion when he felt the warm press of Thor’s thick tip against his parted lips. He pressed a soft kiss against Thor’s head, tongue pressing along the Asgardian’s thick curve.

“Be still Bruce. I shall provide.” Thor’s words earned a soft whimper and a nod of the head as Bruce simply rested his cheek against the side of the couch. Thor continued running his hand though Bruce’s hair, his tip brushing back and fourth against Bruce’s lips before pressing into his mouth. Heavy moans escaped them both when Bruce opened for him, lazily rubbing his own bulge though his jeans. Bruce couldn’t help but smile around the thick tip in his mouth, and the sight of him made Thor ache with need. He maintained control while he still could, slowly rolling his hips, filling Bruce’s mouth with more and more of him. 

Thor’s entire body hunched over the already smaller man, his hips driving the length of his dick deep into Bruce’s mouth repeatedly. His own girth was free now, full and throbbing in his hand as he took thrust after thrust from the god above him. He whimpered and groaned, taking all that Thor gave him, even though it was more than he thought he could handle. He tried to stem the force, placing a hand on Thor’s hip to try and slow his thrusts, and the god relented, pulling himself back from Bruce’s open, inviting warmth and stroking himself. Bruce’s eyes opened, watching the heavenly sight before him as he bucked against his own hand. 

“God, Thor. You’re perfect.” Bruce’s eyes were hazy, glazed over and ready to roll back any second. His mouth hung open, desperately waiting for Thor’s climax. He knew Thor would do anything for him, and right now what he wanted most was for the Asgardian to finish where he started. Bruce wrapped his lips around Thor’s head once more, hand pressed against his bare stomach, feeling his every breath. Thor’s bucking signaled the end, his length full and heavy in his hand as he cried out, pouring everything he had right into Bruce’s mouth. He pulled his oversensitive head from Bruce’s mouth, the man still eagerly licking and sucking at him to the last moment, and dropped to his knees, kissing his lover tenderly while stroking his exposed hip. Burying his face in Banner’s neck, he spoke to him between hot kisses along his throat.

“Will you spill yourself for your King as well, Bruce?” His hand stroked Bruce’s exposed inner thigh and the smaller man bucked his hips, gasping. 

“Please! Whatever you want, I need it!”

“Your pleasure serves me well.” Thor grinned and nuzzled Bruce more, his beard rough against Banner’s neck and trail of tender bite marks left in Thor’s wake. He took Bruce into his hand, stroking him and teasing his head. “So thick and full for me. Do not hold back. Give me what I am due.” 

Bruce cried out, his hips caught in the air, a static contortion as Thor stroked him. Heavy, ragged moans gave way to one loud long scream as he came, hands grasping for anything as the pleasure shot through him. He collapsed into the couch, shaking and dizzy.

Thor’s tender laugh brought him back down eventually, the last of his strength used to turn into the god’s arms. They held each other for a moment, ignoring their indulgent mess until a knock tapped at their door. 

Bruce groaned. “Who the hell could that even be?”

His answer came in the form of a lewd, messy kiss. Thor smile against his lips and stood, walking to the door and peeking outside before opening it. 

“Hey, wait!” Bruce said, scrambling to tug his pants up. While the sight of Thor unclothed was indeed spectacular, Bruce still felt a rush of unexpected horror at the thought that someone would get an unexpected eyeful.

“You wear opulent battle armor year round, but you couldn’t put on pants when _I_ knock?” Thor bellowed in response, reaching out to hug the man before he could finish entering the doorway.

“It is excellent to see you well Barton!” Thor shut the door behind them, his arm clasped around the shoulders of one exhausted Clint Barton. “Banner and I were getting restless.”

Clint eyed Thor suspiciously “Couldn’t have been that bad. I hope you two planned on leaving a really good tip for the house cleaning.”

“Oh god.” Bruce was rushing to wipe things down in horror. “We’re the worst”

“Yeah but you two helped save like, the multiverse or something. I’m sure they’ll accept a 50 and your autograph.”

“Come, Barton. The Avengers are scattered in the wind and we need to make use of your knowledge.”

Clint rolled his eyes. “It can wait until after you two take _separate_ showers.”


End file.
